Beauty Contest Catastrophe
by Kay Hau
Summary: Oneshot, scene from story idea in works. Detective Khargana has never been 'pretty' - but how can she compete like this! She runs into one of her best friends, movie-star handsome owner of the infamous Card House club, Black Jack. Maybe he can help?


**Beauty Contest Catastrophe**

**By appaloosa500 / Kay Hau**

_Author's Note: Just a rough scene from a story idea I've had in the works for YEARS. Seriously, this idea was probably the second Khargana story I ever came up with, though I never finished it. Dedicated to annases13 to apologize with my delay with some of my other stories. ;) Enjoy! Oh, and apologies, but this story hasn't been edited. :P Feel free to let me know of any major errors.  
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><p>Khargana, for the first time in her life, was near tears. And all it took was her reflection…<p>

Honestly, she'd known she was never really pretty. Since she'd opened her detective's practice, three-quarters of her clientele had been females looking for "Mr." Khargana, all prepared up in makeup and a cute dress, ready to charm the roughish private eye. Usually they didn't even figure it out until she flat out told them she was female, and even then half of them didn't believe her until she showed them her lookup (and they realized no self-respecting PI would lie about their gender).

It'd never bothered her, being mistaken for a guy. After all, she wore a vest filled with gizmos, was 95% of the time bruised from a recent fight, was rather broad across the shoulders, had narrow, slanted eyes, and had a rather low, slightly husky voice. Forget makeup, forget heels, she'd never even worn a skirt. She'd never dreamed of doing her fur or going to a party with a crush – she'd never even had a crush!

But she'd never thought she was ugly. And the face that looked back at her from the mirror, the fat form and disgusting over-painted clown face, was absolutely disgusting. Why had she let her friends talk her into this? Oh yeah, someone was threatening to plant a bomb at the Beauty Contest, and the only way she could get in without arousing suspicion was as a participant.

HOW DOES THIS NOT AROUSE SUSPICION?

She rounded the corner, heading who knows where to escape her friends, who'd looked more than a little uncomfortable at the results of 'prettying' their friend, and the evil mirror that had shattered her self-esteem. She hadn't even known she HAD any sense of pride about her looks!

Rounding a corner, she crashed into the last person she would've expected. The Green Wocky had been running quite fast, so they quite literally crashed into each other, then subsequently crashed to the ground.

"Khargana?" came the puzzled question, from the incredibly handsome Brown Wocky, in his usual black designer suit.

Oh, no. Not… "Black Jack?" she accidentally let out. "What are you…" she broke off her question, realizing she absolutely did not want to continue this conversation. She wanted to run away. Run back home, shred the notes for this case, and forget it ever happened.

"Are you okay, dear? You look dreadful."

Ouch. He didn't mean it that way. Khargana knew he didn't mean it that way. She knew he was asking why she was upset, not calling her ugly. But it struck home all the same, and the shock must've shown on her face.

"Khar?" he said softly, leaning forward and reaching out a paw to help her up.

She slapped the paw away. "I know I look terrible. I'm not blind, BJ," she growled, narrowing her eyes, her hurt turning into anger.

He laughed. He actually laughed. That delightful and terribly charming laugh straight out of the movies.

Naturally, she lunged for his throat. Just as naturally, as he'd been the one to teach her street-fighting, he easily caught her outstretched paws.

"Khar, you're being ridiculous. Are you having a problem? Probably with your appearance?"

Detective Khargana was at a loss for words. It stung. What was with this stupid embarrassment? Whenever someone had implied in the past that she was plain or ugly she'd just brushed it off. Returned to her book or her mission or simply shoved a stun gun in their face and ordered their surrender.

"I quit," she growled, eyes flashing. "It's not worth it. I am NOT here to be laughed off a stage!"

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"Some idiot threatened to plant a bomb."

"Then you can't quit, Khargana. It's that simple. You never quit." He smiled happily, practically glowing. How irritating.

"I'll just find another way to sneak in."

"Why? You're already registered," he commented, eyes widening in surprise.

"How do you know that?" Khargana demanded, suddenly suspicious.

His smile grew. "I came to see the beautiful Queen of Spades take center stage, of course!" he declared proudly, referring to her by the nickname she took at his club.

"Well, it ain't gonna happen, in case ya didn't notice," she growled in annoyance, glaring at him.

"Well, not in those rags. They don't suit you at all. And what is with that terrible makeup job?"

Khargana blushed, looking away. "Don't blame the clothes for the model, BJ," she grumbled. She knew how much care her friends had taken. The dress was beautiful, and the makeup was top of the line, actually recommended for feline Neopets. Her friends had spent hours thinking up the color scheme, the style, everything.

"Rubbish," declared her friend, grabbing her paw and pulling her away. "Come with me."

"Black Jack!" the detective exclaimed.

"I'll prove you wrong! Quite easily, too. It's all about style."

"What are you…"

"Do you really think I can make things worse?" asked the Brown Wocky, pulling her along.

"Well… no," grumbled Detective Khargana, letting herself follow one of her best friends down the hall.

They came to… the guys' changing rooms?

"BJ…" she began warningly.

He opened the door, peeking in, then opening it widely and gesturing her to follow him. "All clear!" he said cheerfully. "Most males come to the Beauty Contest already dressed, so this place is always empty. I'll lock the door just to be safe."

"What are you…"

He pulled her in and shoved her to a sink, yanking down cleanser from a shelf. "Wash," he ordered. "Honestly, who thought red lipstick would look good on you?"

Khargana rolled her eyes and obeyed. When she looked up, her normal face looked back at her. Plain, simple, but not ugly in the least. She let out a sigh of relief, then looked down at the disgusting fluffy red dress that made her look terrifically fat. She knew she wasn't overweight – she worked out every day! She had taught fighting to future spies at the training academy for future Neopian Secret Service agents! But the fact was she looked huge in the mirror.

"Now strip off that monstrosity," instructed Black Jack, shoving her into a changing booth.

She stepped in and took off the ugly dress. Well, incredibly beautiful, angelic dress, which nonetheless looked terrible on her.

"Put these on!" came Black Jack's voice, and pieces of clothing draped themselves over the top of the changing room door.

She put on the black slacks, the white shirt, a black vest, and only froze as she lifted the jacket, realizing why this outfit looked familiar.

"THIS IS YOUR SUIT!" she shouted, storming out the changing room, waving the jacket and glaring at the Brown Wocky, now only clothed in his wonderfully luxurious, thick brown fur, still managing to be exquisitely handsome.

"So? We're about the same size," he said, coming forward and fixing the shirt on her, then gesturing to the mirror.

Khargana turned and glared at the evil mirror, expecting to look like… well, like a girl trying on a guy's suit.

It actually didn't look half-bad. In this case, being very fit and rather large for a female worked in her favor. She didn't look overbearingly masculine or anything, but lean and well put-together.

Black Jack took the suit from her paw and helped her set her paws through the sleeves. Then he handed her a thin leather belt and helped her with the black tie.

She looked almost as good as ol' BJ himself! Wow, the wonders of designer suits! How many neopoints had this thing cost?

Black Jack was nodding approvingly while he appraised the detective he considered one of his best friends (as well as his long-time secret love), then took a needle and thread from another drawer.

"What are you…" began Khargana, as he knelt behind her and she felt him messing with the jacket.

"Just a little adjustment," he mumbled, a needle in his mouth as he arranged the suit just so. "A few nips and tucks and… there we go!"

"All you did was pull in the waist," chuckled Khargana, rolling her eyes and glancing back towards the mirror.

Whoa. She looked good! Never thought the waistline of a jacket made that much of a difference!

"Now a touch of tasteful makeup…" began Black Jack, putting away the sewing supplies and scrounging through some more drawers.

"Eh, I think I'll stay like this," said Khargana nervously, remembering the red lipstick disaster. Then she frowned. "Wait, why is there makeup in the guys' changing room?"

"A different kind of makeup, I'll assure you," laughed the handsome Brown Wocky. "Or at least the males who participate in the Beauty Contest will insist it's so, though frankly the only difference is the shades of color in their selections… Here we go!" He pulled out a tube of clear lip gloss, what looked like two fat pencils in gray and black, and a small eyeshadow case, which, when he flipped it open, held dark green, gray, white, and black.

He pushed Khargana into a seat and got to work with an artist's eye, with a concentration that Khargana had certainly never seen on her good friend. Black Jack was a club owner, a rather dirty fighter, a quick-witted talker, and an overall charmer that everyone in his club ready to die for him should the need arise. His hobbies were reading books and rock-collecting. Certainly not a serious artist… right?

But his paws were steady and precise, his eyes intent and measuring. Khargana closed her eyes when he instructed her to do so, not even opening them when she felt him brushing and adjusting her fur.

"There!" he declared, beautiful voice ringing with pride and admiration. "You look stunning!"

It wasn't the first time he'd told her that. He'd said that the first time he'd met her, and she hadn't been able to argue with his earnest blue eyes and his tone without the slightest trace of exaggeration or mockery. But, when her dark brown eyes opened and she turned to the stranger in the mirror, it was the first time she actually felt the words applied.

She looked… handsome. Not male, there was definitely something distinctly female about her, though she had no clue what or how BJ had gotten that affect. But she definitely looked handsome. She could actually work with this! She could actually fit in with the other contestants!

She could solve the case!

Black Jack smiled at the look on her face. Detective Khargana was back to herself. Proud, stubborn, and a natural gumshoe. Any concern over her appearance had completely been tossed out the window, the look in her eyes the same as it was with any other costume she disguised herself in during her investigations.

"Go get that punk," he said, though she didn't even hear him as she jumped to her rearpaws and rushed out. Only once her paw grabbed the doorknob did she remember something.

"Thanks, BJ!" she called out giving him a cocky wave as she turned the handle and dashed out, back to her friends, her mind already back on the case. Not even noticing the admiring stares following her as she ran by a handful of other contestants.

"Not fair," grumbled the handsome Wocky to himself, leaning against the door as he watched her run off without so much as a glance backwards. "I shouldn't have done that. Now everyone will know how beautiful she is." The words were said lightly, as if he was joking, but the frown on his face and the concern echoed in his eyes showed how worrying the thought actually was to him.


End file.
